


with a little help from my (future) friends

by OneshotPrincess



Category: Naruto
Genre: Background Relationships, Friendship, Gen, Konoha Founders Era, M/M, They are not a major focus at all tbh, Uchiha Izuna Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 14:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15439335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneshotPrincess/pseuds/OneshotPrincess
Summary: Three times Izuna's helped by a Senju and one time he helps a Senju- but actually ends up helping himself anyway.





	with a little help from my (future) friends

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Naruto Gift Exchange for @copyninken on tumblr. It was meant to be a 5+1 thing but the deadline was fast approaching and I unfortunately decided to make this shorter :( 
> 
> The prompt went as followed:
> 
> A friendship/gen fic featuring the founders characters - in an Izuna survives canon-divergent story. Any au is fine - time travel, modern, etc. Maybe something about the actual founding of the village, or any interactions with them. The ships do not need to be featured, they can be background, or not even mentioned. It can definitely be any genre - but i'd prefer no hurt/angst, and would like a happy ending. Any additional characters can be added as the author sees fit! 
> 
> It's not as fluffy as I'd have liked it to be because I was in a pretty bad headspace all through July for unrestrained fluff. Still I hope they like it!

**i.**

The first time Izuna meets a Senju, he is three years old.

There are others with him, older cousins and a brother who’d been tasked with watching him, the youngest, that day. They’d all wandered a little longer and a little farther into the woods than they were supposed to, stopping to practice their katas with each other in a secluded clearing. The older kids busied themselves with teaching the younger ones and in the midst of it no one notices when Izuna wanders off from among them.

He makes his way off the beaten path, busily following patterns on the grass the way only toddlers could when a shadow falls over him. Izuna looks up and finds himself face to face with the end of a sword. Izuna is only four but he is from a shinobi clan. He knows what a sword is.

Izuna can’t _say_ anything or do anything, can barely even comprehend what’s happening as he stares at the shining blade as it’s raised high and comes swinging down-

“Stop!”

The blade stops, a hair’s breadth away from his forehead. The man holding it glances behind him, annoyed. And that’s when the woman comes into view. She looks like something out of the stories they’re told at bedtime. Pale, pale skin, paler than any Uchiha’s and her long flowing hair is white and tied in a loose braid behind her. Her face has marks of red on it. The moon princess, Izuna thinks a little nonsensically.

Her grey eyes rake over his form for a moment before she sniffs. “Leave him,” she commands the man who balks at the suggestion.

“He’s an Uchiha,” the man barks and Izuna can feel himself freezing. “We should cut him down now before he grows.”

“No!” the woman cuts in sharply. “This is only a pup. There is no honor in killing children. Now come along.”

The man grudgingly moves to sheath his sword but not before he mutters out a curse: “Damned Hatakes and their code of honour.”

In a flash the sword is out of his hand and in the woman’s and she’s pressing it to the man’s neck. “I am a Senju. Your _Lady_ Senju. Don’t you dare forget it!” She turns her cold gaze on Izuna. “And don’t you forget it either pup. You owe me a debt now.”

And then she’s gone, as quickly as she came and the man stumbles along behind her, pausing only to throw a scathing look at Izuna over his shoulder.

Madara finds him like that, what feels like ages later, rooted to the same spot. “Ototo,” Madara says, worry evident, “Ototo, you’re trembling.”

He lets his brother take him home and tuck him into bed. That night he dreams of pale skin and silver swords.

(Later, much later, he will meet a boy with white hair and red marks and a clan symbol on the battlefield and know exactly who that woman was. He’ll wish the woman hadn’t said what she’d said, he’ll pretend she hadn’t.

Even later still, Izuna will ask Madara what his earliest memory was. Madara will smile wistfully and say that it was of their mother, dark-haired and beautiful, smiling down at him. Izuna won’t be able to describe the jealousy he’ll feel towards Madara for that. He’ll wish for a memory like that, of his mother and family. Instead the earliest memory he’ll ever be able to fully remember would be that of a Senju.)

 

**ii.**

Izuna is dying the second time a Senju helps him. Dying from a strike from Senju Tobirama and oh how that knowledge _burns_ more than the wound itself. Madara is _frantic_ and that burns too. He knows how much Madara cares, he cares so much that it might break him if Izuna leaves. Might break the clan apart. Izuna is trying his best to hold on but _oh gods_ does it hurt. He can’t leave, he can’t leave like this, not without-not-

“Madara, take my eyes,” he rasps out. His brother freezes from where he’s hovering above him, a constant, distressing vigil, waiting for his recovery even as their medics shake their heads.

“What?” Madara chokes out emphatically. “Izuna, _no_.”

“I’ll not leave you with nothing,” Izuna insists. “I won’t leave you, Aniki. Please just take my eyes. Use them to protect the clan.”

“ _No_.”

Izuna’s vision is swimming, the throbbing in his body is unbearable. He closes his eyes against his will. Forces himself to whisper, “Please. You can’t lead the clan with your vision this way. You must take mine…please Aniki, I don’t want to leave you.” The childish plea leaves him before he can stop. He doesn’t, he doesn’t want to die like so many of their clansmen. He doesn’t want to leave Madara.

Madara’s distraught face looms over him, eyes bright with tears before something hardens in his face. His jaw tightens in a firm line and Izuna thinks that yes, finally his brother is listening, in understanding what he’s trying to say…

“I won’t lose you Izuna,” is what he last hears before his vision goes dark.

Izuna wakes up to voices whispering softly and darkness and a warmth growing at his side from where…the wound is. There’s a heavy weight on his forehead, someone is stroking his hair. Izuna stretches his other senses, trying to understand what’s going on when he recognizes it- the chakra signature beside him, seeping into his wounds. Familiar but not family.

Izuna jerks forward, flails about in a panic before something subdues him. Madara. Madara behind him. But if Madara is behind him then why, _why_ is that Senju here.

“Peace, Izuna,” a voice murmurs before the warmth overpowers him and he loses consciousness once more.

(Afterwards, Izuna will make a complete miraculous recovery and he will, initially, be furious at Madara. The word will spread despite Madara’s best efforts that a Senju is responsible for Izuna’s recovery and not just any Senju- their leader. For some time Izuna will _despair_ until their youngest soldiers will start coming forward to Madara.

 _Enough_ , they will say. _It is possible now, isn’t it? Peace is possible._ There will be objections, especially from the elders, but they will fold under the pressure from the younger generations. There will be a village.

Izuna will have absolutely no idea how to feel about it all.)

 

**iii.**

The third time it’s because Izuna is almost ready to snap.

It’s almost surreal but Izuna remembers the death, the destruction and he doesn’t miss it for one second. No matter how he might have felt, despite the apprehension he still feels sometimes Madara…had been right. This village is a good thing. It has to be. Izuna can just imagine it. Generations of Uchiha children growing up safe behind its walls. Children who wouldn’t have to grow up with a weapon in their hands as soon as they’re old enough to walk. It’s…good. Izuna can believe in this village.

If only it weren’t for the _bickering_.  

“It’s auspicious,” Elder Miyako insists, her wrinkled skin trembling with her indignation. “Left side of the river. It’s custom and the Uchiha were promised this land for the temple.”

“Lady Miyako,” Hashirama says and good God the man has the patience of the Sage himself. Izuna doesn’t begrudge him the role of leader. “The Uchiha still has plenty of land. If we want to cement this alliance with the Aburame, we _must_ make this concession. That land and the trees will be perfect for their kikaichu to breed-”

“You could grow those same trees anywhere, _Hokage_ ,” the way she says the word is full of implications. “Why must we always be the ones to make a sacrifice?”

Because it wouldn’t work. Izuna has been a soldier his whole life but he’s beginning to understand all these political shit that feudal lords deal with. The Aburame demands aren’t about feasibility. They’re about concessions and respect. Konoha has to show that they care enough about the Aburame for this alliance to work.

Too bad Elder Miyako is making this a problem.

Izuna catches Madara’s eye over the Elder’s head and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. Madara’s lips twitch a little but he stays impassive otherwise. He lets the woman talk. Madara is always torn, Izuna knows. When Hashirama had been elected as Hokage over him Madara had taken with as much grace as had been possible. But it had come with the expectation that with a Senju leading them Madara would have to the one to protect the clan’s interests.

So he lets the woman talk. Izuna also says nothing. But gods damn if the woman isn’t _irritating_.

Izuna lets out an irritated sigh, too loudly he suspects, because across the table the Lady Mito looks up at the sound. There’s a raised eyebrow and a smile playing across her face; Izuna feels himself flush. Mito herself isn’t paying any special attention to the proceedings, her hands are busily knitting something over her swollen stomach. Izuna would think it terribly domestic of her if he hadn’t known that there is nothing the Lady creates that is not infused with seals.

The meeting passes for another hour before ending. With no clear resolution. Wonderful. Izuna heads towards the designated training fields, intent on burning out his agitation. It’s an hour before he’s interrupted.

“You’re frustrated,” a voice speaks from behind him and Izuna jerks back, almost throwing his kunai at the unseen foe before registering Lady Mito’s form behind him.

“I could have killed you!” Izuna forces out, annoyed.

“No you couldn’t have,” she almost seems amused by the prospect and Izuna has to smother the flair of irritation in him. His hand twitches for a moment; he has to remind himself that Mito is _not_ an enemy. Her eyes follow the movement.

“You miss it,” she states. “The fighting that is. You miss the fighting.”

Izuna recoils as if burned. “I don’t,” he insists. “I’m glad there’s peace, I don’t-” He doesn’t. The clan is the safest it has ever been in generations. He won’t let any suspicions on Mito’s end disrupt that. So what if he feels restless at night? So what if he can’t shake the feeling of enemies at his back? It doesn’t make any of it _real_.

“It’s alright,” Mito interrupts. “I’m not blaming you.” Izuna pauses, eyeing her carefully. He can’t detect any falseness in her words. “Change is not always easy to process.” She beckons to follow and after a moment’s hesitation, he does.

Lady Mito leads him away from the open training grounds farther into the forest and Izuna fights the itch under his skin, the one that tells him that he is in danger. He is not. Mito has no special hatred for him and none of them would do anything to endanger their hard-won village. The itch persists regardless.

Mito leads him to another small clearing, beside a bubbling creek. There are small supplies set there, paper and ink and knitting needles. Mito sits down heavily and pats the space beside her.

“This is…”

“A safe haven of sorts, for me,” Mito smiles ruefully. “It can all get…a bit much sometimes, right?”

Izuna stares at her before plopping down beside her. “I don’t mean to feel this way,” he mumbles, feeling oddly like a child. “It’s just…this instinct I can’t fight. Whenever people argue…at all these meetings where you just _talk_ , I just…”

“You feel as though war is just around the corner, or that it would be simpler if fighting did break out,” Mito nods understandingly. “It’s understandable. War is not easy to shake off. It sinks its roots into one’s heart. But there are ways to overcome it I feel.”

“How?”

Mito picks up a brush and offers it to him. “You find a hobby,” she tells him with a smile. “There are more things to do than train all hours of the day you know, Izuna. I could teach you this.”

Izuna looks dubiously at the brush.

“You could also try meditation,” she says and Izuna quickly grabs the paintbrush.

She doesn’t teach him sealing. Clan secrets are clan secrets. But she does teach him how to start painting and that’s not nothing.

(They will meet each other at the creek for years to come and Izuna’s skill will steadily improve. The tension in Izuna’s chest will ease out little by little each time. Mito will give birth to twins and Izuna will paint them both, a little unsteady and broad but heartfelt all the same. Mito will frame the painting and put it up on the clan living room for all to see, a gift from a cherished friend.)

 

 

**+i.**

Izuna knows for a fact that he had not successfully sneaked up on Senju Tobirama because it’s impossible to startle the world’s greatest sensor. Still the man gives no indication that he’s noticed Izuna’s presence as he works away at his desk and irritably, Izuna thinks he’ll have to be the one to address the matter himself.

“Well?” Izuna asks. “Touka mentioned you needed my help?”

Tobirama bristles like a startled cat. “She did, did she?” he asks, mouth downturned in a frown.

“Yes,” Izuna rolls his eyes. “She did.”

“Well she lied,” Tobirama brusquely turns his back. By now Izuna has known this man for years, fought against and beside him on the battlefield and been his partner in village politics. He knows how to needle the man.

Izuna plants himself on the edge of Tobirama’s desk and taps on the wood. And taps. And taps and taps. Until-

“Is there something you want now Uchiha?” Tobirama grits out. “Other than to annoy me, that is?”

Izuna rolls his eyes again. “I want to help you. If you’d stop being difficult about it. Touka implied it was quite serious.”

Tobirama sets his pen down and looks at Izuna. Sometimes, he thinks, Tobirama’s eyes seem to be more piercing than an Uchiha’s Sharingan. Like he’s looking through you as he watches. Izuna doesn’t fidget though, only meets his gaze head on. To his surprise, Tobirama’s skin tints a little…pink before the man turns away.

“It’s stupid,” Tobirama murmurs, raising a hand to the back of his neck. “I-the Uchiha-”

“Yes?” Izuna prompts, worries rising firstly because Tobirama’s problems apparently concern the Uchiha and secondly because he has never in his life seen the man this _flustered_.  

“Courting rituals,” Tobirama finally mumbles, acting as though the words are physically painful for him. “The Uchiha have courting rituals do they not? I would…like to know more about them.”

“You want to court an Uchiha?” Izuna exclaims incredulously.

“It’s a hypothetical question!” Tobirama snaps before dropping his now burning face onto his hands. “Forget I asked.”

Izuna gapes at him. The thought of Tobirama courting an Uchiha…unsettles him, though he’s not sure why. The old enmities…well he’d like to think they’re behind them but still. An inter-marriage between the Uchiha and Senju could have…consequences on village politics. But still, if anyone knows about politics it’s Tobirama. So the man could probably figure out a way to court an Uchiha without it turning into a nightmare. If Izuna tells him how that is.

He ponders the pink flush down the back of the man’s neck and sighs. “It’s simple really,” he says. “You just make them something they’d find useful. Something they’d appreciate. And you have to do it from scratch, all the materials and everything.”

“Anything?”

“Useful things,” he reprimands.

“Well what would you consider useful?” Tobirama peeks contemplatively from behind his fingers.

“What does it matter? What I find useful probably won’t be the same as your Uchiha’s one.”

“Humor me. Just to give me an idea of the degree of usefulness Uchiha look for exactly.”

“Hmmm,” Izuna considers. “Well I’d probably like something like a scabbard. My current one’s pretty beat up. But we don’t actually use courting gifts though, they’re just supposed to be useful. To show that you’re paying attention to them.”

“A wooden scabbard?”

“A scabbard’s a scabbard,” Izuna shrugs. “Wood, metal, ivory if you’re feeling fancy- who cares? But if you decide to make something wooden, don’t get your brother to do it,” he wags a finger warningly. “Doesn’t count. You have to find the materials and make it yourself.”

“Interesting,” Tobirama has that look in his eyes now, the one that says he’s about to come up with a brilliant plan. “Very, very interesting. Thank you for your help, Izuna. You’ve been most…insightful.”

He knows a dismissal when he hears one and even though he’s itching to find out just which Uchiha has caught Tobirama’s eye, he decides to leave it be. He doesn’t want to interfere in a courting ritual after all. Any more input from him and it’ll be downright meddling.

He meets Touka outside the building and when she asks him about him he just shrugs a little helplessly. “He wanted advice on how to court an Uchiha. I wonder who it is,” he muses lightly.

Touka gapes at him, then bursts into horrible, raucous laughter.

(A week later, Izuna will find a carved scabbard on his desk at the Tower. It’ll be absolutely beautiful, black walnut with intricate designs and seals carved into it. Izuna will pick it up almost reverently and he’ll glance backwards to find Tobirama awkwardly shuffling in to his office.

It’ll click then abruptly and Izuna will tell him that Tobirama is absolutely an idiot because he’s not supposed to be _told_ about it, he’s supposed to observe himself for it to count. It’s supposed to be a _surprise_.

Tobirama will say that since Izuna wasn’t expecting it, it clearly still counts. Izuna will call him an asshole for that.

He’ll say yes anyway, of course.)

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated!


End file.
